


As I See It

by IreneProctor



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, POV Third Person, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25748254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneProctor/pseuds/IreneProctor
Summary: The Inquisitor's companions' take on the budding romance between The Iron Bull and Ellaria Trevelyan. Bull and the Inquisitor's POV on what really happened at the end. Fluff galore 'cause I need it, and with a healthy dose of angst because I can't help myself.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Iron Bull, The Iron Bull/Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 28





	As I See It

**\--Krem--**

‘How long until they finish negotiating?...’ Damn rain, they couldn’t have met somewhere sunny instead of the Storm Coast? Their old job was finished, they might as well have waited for the other party somewhere dry.

Krem looks at his Chief, who’s currently talking to the famous Inquisitor. Barely a couple of months in, and that lot has already made their mark on a changing Ferelden.

She’s not what he expected.

After hearing the stories about how she stopped the breach from growing further at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Krem was surprised to see such a small woman as the source of all the ruckus. He wondered if she was half-dwarf, as not many humans were that short. Krem himself was of average height and he towered over her easily. Poor little mage looked downright breakable. When they spoke at Haven she looked hesitant, which… well, to be fair is a normal reaction: It’s not every day that mercenaries come knocking at your front door looking for business, instead of the other way around.

Now she finally came to meet them. The rest of her party couldn’t have looked more distrustful. Again, Krem couldn’t blame them.

He looked back at Chief and saw that he was already working his magic on the flustered mage. She still looked hesitant, but something about her gaze when looking at Chief already told him that the deal was as good as done. And the Chief…

Oh no.

Krem knew that look… she was tiny and a mage, but also curvy and a red-head to boot, which does not help matters, and the only thing stopping Krem from running over there and pulling his boss’ hand away from the Inquisitor’s was the fact that he knew that the Chief had never cost them a job over his dalliances… yet.

Still, Krem had a feeling he should be extra respectful to her, just in case Chief tried to bite off more than he could chew. They really could use a long-term assignment right now, what with the unstable economic conditions associated with a huge glowing green crack in the sky.

**\--Leliana--**

A Qunari. Not just a Qunari, but a Ben-hassrath. In their battlements, watching their comings and goings, knowing their numbers and organizational structure… this could either be an amazing advantage or one of their worst mistakes as a young organization.

Leliana leaned heavily on the stone veranda as she watched The Iron Bull and The Bull’s Chargers practice on their grounds. This was hardly an ideal situation. They had just lost Haven, and Skyhold was a decrepit dream still trying to take shape into something defensible. If the Qunari decided their alliances were best invested elsewhere, this could be the end of the Inquisition long before it even took off properly.

On the other hand, such an alliance could be crucial in the future fight that Corypheus was sure to provide. Leliana wasn’t fooled into thinking that this was a permanent alliance: once the Inquisition served their purpose, the Qunari would continue on to…. Whatever goals they had before this.

It was tricky business and even trickier to balance. But she could do this.

Her spies had reported that thus far everything Bull had claimed was true. He said a hell of a lot more than even her least trained recruit would have. What an odd spy… or genius, depending on his exact end goal.

Still… With how skittish and closed-off the Inquisitor was around new people, it was odd how at ease she seemed around the Qunari spy… It was worrying enough how extraordinarily fond she seemed of the company of that Tevinter magister’s son, but this….

Leliana trusted her completely at this point, intentions-wise, but anyone can be fooled into doing the most terrible things if compelled by a kind voice and a seductive smile. She should know.

That’s how Marjolaine almost killed her.

**\--Sera--**

Quizzy had a nice arse. As in reeeeeally nice. Big and round. Even those loose mage robes couldn’t hide it, to the point where Sera on occasion tripped if she was too intent on her… observations, while out in the field. Stupid weeds, friggin’ getting in the way. Stupid demons, stupid Coryphiphy. But ahhhh that arse… it’s like water in the bleeding desert.

And it’s not like she was the only one looking, that huge Qunari wall of muscle sure as heck kept looking as well, when he wasn’t too busy coming up with stupid strategies to send her flying over the enemy hordes.

So hah! Suck it!

**\--Josephine--**

Inquisitor Ellaria Trevelyan was… surprisingly good at politics. She seemed so quiet and so fearful of the task forced upon her plate at first, that Josephine wondered how they would ever turn her into not just a fighting, but also a political force to be reckoned with.

As it turns out, she could talk an Arl out of his last pair of shoes, with those innocent eyes and charming demeanour. It was not fake by any means, but it was hardly not deliberate either. She walked a fine line between true to oneself and careful on how this would reflect on the people she cared for.

And Josephine would bet 2 sovereigns that this would be more than enough just until they met Empress Celene in the grand ball that was planned in just 3 months.

As long as they didn’t force her into a dance floor, all was well. But for all the innate coordination she showed while spell-casting, dancing the intricate twirls of traditional Orlesian ballroom-posturing was downright torture.

This is where Josephine worried, and had to give lessons to the poor girl who most of the time during their tutoring looked near to tears of despair at her own lack of ability. In the battlefield she was a fighter: she feared but she didn’t cower or run. She knew people depended on her closing those rifts and whatever Corypheus had in store for Thedas.

But she first had to get Celene’s support, which meant she had to… well, simply put dance her way out of an on-coming succession war.

Two weeks into Josephine’s desolation, Blackwall came by her office.

“You might want to have her go to that Qunari fella with this problem.” He said while looking vaguely interested at an empty vase by the corner of her desk.

“He knows Orlesian dance routines?” she asked astounded.

“Maker, no. But he knows how to bolster confidence where there is little to none.”

Indeed, a couple of days later, while she might not have improved at all her dancing, she looked defiantly determined to get it right. She still tripped, got the timings wrong and generally didn’t know whether to lead or be led, but every mistake she made only seemed to fuel her drive to right those wrongs. And slowly she started to improve.

Well, now. This, Josie could work with. Who knew Qunari could be such great motivational speakers?

**\--Solas--**

Solas had just finished another mural when he heard the news: the Qunari would not be allies now or in the future. The Iron Bull had chosen instead to save his Chargers while out on a mission in the Storm Coast.

Solas couldn’t say he was sad over the loss of such… "allies". A people who enslaved even their own who dared to dream, to hope, to be free to think their own thoughts? It hardly counted as a loss as far as he was concerned.

He put his brushes and paints away and decided to head up to the ramparts for some fresh air. It had been many hours since he’d begun, and it was now late into the evening. He could see the Herald’s Rest from where he stood, leaning over the ledge of the stone walls, arms crossed and backside finally relaxing. Lights were coming from it, music as well and on occasion someone screaming something in drunken joy.

He could also see two figures on the ramparts beside the gatehouse. Wait. He knew those. One was Ellaria, standing and holding… was that the Iron Bull?

She seemed to be holding his head, which was buried in her chest as he held onto her tightly with both arms around her waist, his legs folded besides her hips. He was sitting down, and even so she barely had a head over him.

From this distance he had no way of knowing what was said between them. But he could tell, by the way he gripped her waist and the way she gently stroked his head, that he had seen far more than either of them were likely to ever want anyone else to see.

He felt a pang in his own heart. An old, very old wound from mistakes past.

He might not ever have someone like that in his life again. All things considered, he likely never will. His path was doomed to be a lonely one, all the way to an end he foresaw as necessary but painful.

However long they had left together, he wished them well.

He turned away and shushed his heart once more, in this strange world he no longer recognized nor belong to.

**\--Cullen--**

He knew he was bad with women. The first woman he was interested in was a mage whom he’d fled from, the moment he realised she was flirting with him. Maker, he didn’t just flee, he _ran_ like an idiot.

That didn’t mean he was a complete idiot about love… well, most of the time anyway. His sister certainly made her despair known even in writing.

That’s why when Cullen went to the first floor of the quartermaster’s building and saw the Inquisitor sitting on the windowsill, he had to stop.

He was sure she hadn’t noticed him yet, but her companion? The one holding her, on whose lap she was sitting and looking at her like there was no other place in the world he’d rather be? Oh, he definitely noticed.

He liked Ellaria, probably more than he should. She was shy at first, but once she decided you were good in her book, all bets were off: in Skyhold she was not just the Inquisitor, but a friend to almost everyone. Even tired she always had a kind word to say, an uplifting way about her. On occasion she had some… otherworldly ideas on how to ambush enemies, which frankly made him temporarily question her sanity, and made Sera just get this odd besotted glint in her eyes. Even Blackwall looked suspiciously tempted at some of the wilder ideas.

This peculiar, often oblivious but confident and brave young woman was someone Cullen was proud to stand behind.

Iron Bull however was… well, his own experience with Qunari was limited and… unpleasant to say the least. Kirkwall was a trial in more ways than one for Cullen. Also, it didn’t help that he was just plain uneasy around spies in general, Leliana included. He couldn’t get a clear read on this Iron Bull, even if they had been working on the same side of this war for nearly a year now.

He may be blind about Bull’s intentions and love in general, but the way they held each other… even he couldn’t not see what he was interrupting.

As he got lost in his thoughts, a voice startled him.

“Need some help there, Cullen?”

The question would be perfectly normal, if it wasn’t for the underlying threat he heard in his tone.

Ellaria jumped a little and turned rapidly to where Bull was looking, her face rapidly flushing, but her hands still on the Qunari’s chest.

“Yes, I… Inquisitor whenever you have some time, it would be best that we discuss the findings of the scouts sent to the Emerald Graves.”

“Oh, yes of course! Right now or…”

“NO! I mean, no, uhm…maybe in a couple of hours?”

“Sure, I’ll be there!”

“Well then, if you’ll excuse me…”

“See you later Cullen.” She smiled warmly and turned back to the Iron Bull.

He quickly left without taking another look. Few times he’d felt that level of threat upon his life from a mere look. And whatever… deeper sentiments he had about Ellaria he was clearly best forgetting them.

If not for her companion, at least because she clearly had her heart already settled elsewhere, going by the look in her eyes when she was with Bull.

**\--Cassandra and Cole--**

She was training in the battlements with a new dummy. This one was… adequately sturdy she supposed. The former one had been more resilient, but not to the point where it could handle her reaction to the latest chapter of Varric’s novel. Oh, well.

She was about to strike it from a diagonal angle when…

“ _It’s warmer when he looks at me, it chases away the cold.”_ A dream-like voice sounded. *THUNK!*

And there went the head of the new dummy. Right on the dirt. Lovely.

She sighed and put her sword back in its sheath, crossing her arms as she looked up at the spirit boy dangling upside down from a tree branch.

“What are you talking about, Cole?”

“ _Mama and Papa loved me but still they couldn’t help. The ice almost froze my veins and even as they cried it wouldn’t slow down. In the circle they helped but it was never warm…_ ”

Circle… so a mage? What had happened?

“And now? How are they now Cole?”

Cole finally looks at her in the eyes and his smile is like a child’s.

“ _Happy, so happy and so warm. It’s ok if nobody else understands, he understands. I’m loved and warm._ ”

**\--Vivienne--**

Her parents loved her, of that she had no doubt.

As with most mages, her talent for magic was discovered at a young age. She’d been living with her parents in Rivain, a far more forgiving place for mages. When she manifested her parents looked fearful. Not of her, but _for_ her. As forgiving as Rivain was, neither of them had magic themselves and could not help her – at the same time this was their only child, their precious baby girl.

Vivienne herself decided to go to the circle at Ostwick, both her parents crying as they held her tightly. Her parents loved her, this she did not doubt, as she hugged them back and held in check her own tears.

Ostwick was a kinder circle in general as well, as they allowed the occasional visit from relatives, which helped. Her parents visited every occasion they were allowed and Vivienne was happy.

It truly was an amazing thing what proper education could do for one’s magical talents. But in there she also saw for the first time the horrors of what happened when mages lost control: how they changed, killed, maimed and tortured.

At the end of her teenage years she moved to Montsimmard. It was… different. There, for one, she had definitely access to more connections to nobles, mainly from Orlais.

Leaving the circle momentarily was always an odd experience for her. Within them she knew limits, order and direction. Outside, she saw how people hated mages, feared them… and with good reason, admittedly. She made it her mission to face the lions of Orlais head-on, to stand tall and proud in their face, make friends with them, even as they hated her kind. If mages were to survive in Thedas, if she wanted to protect them with the best weapons at her disposal, she must at all costs show others that they could be useful, even if it meant being alone in a room full of people who hated her far too often. Even if it meant mages could never be truly free.

Luckily she was good at The Game. She could do this.

And it served her well when she finally met her dear Bastien de Ghislain. At first he was a resourceful mean to an end, but… later he… she sighed.

Bastien loved her, this she knew without a doubt.

Unfortunately his love was returned.

Yet here he was… finally still. A man who loved to move, sing, dance, chatter for hours on end… her heart hurt to the point where she thought it would suffocate her.

Poor Ellaria behind her still looked somewhat clueless, but respectfully silent as she looked at Vivienne sitting on a dead man’s bed, caressing his hair. That child had supported the mage rebellion so long ago now, and while Vivienne understood why, still she couldn’t agree with it. Ellaria was good, truly good. If she ever became as apostate, Vivienne wasn’t sure she’d have it in herself to hunt Ellaria down. There was cunning in her yes, but no malice.

The circles were the only way she knew how to keep her kin… her family safe. But Ellaria was turning that on itself and Vivienne no longer was so sure of everything.

Still, she was so young, such a bright future ahead if they survived the on-coming confrontation with Corypheus.

“Darling, if I have one advice for you it’s this: if you ever find something good, something you truly cherish… don’t let it go for any reason. Fight with tooth and nail against those who stand between you and your heart’s desire… but don’t let go. Ever.”

Ellaria looked up at Vivienne, even though she herself couldn’t take her eyes away from Bastien.

“I know. I won’t.”

There was a quiet but steely resolve in her voice that made Vivienne smile.

Whatever the future held, this dear one would be alright.

**\--Varric--**

At first he thinks that something’s just weird.

He knows she likes colourful and glittery things, it’s an endearing trait of hers. The big (allegedly) badass Inquisitor Ellaria Trevelyan who slaughtered thousands of demons (allegedly, it may have been more in the hundreds, but he digresses) and Herald of Andraste Herself (not really, but both the nobility and the Chantry are really into that discontinued theory) likes frills and pretty stones. She, Leliana, Dorian and Josephine sure have fun with that side of hers, on their occasional day trips to Val Royeaux.

Make no mistake, in the field she dressed for battle and stealth, but in her free time she had no qualms about her preferences. Hence why he called her Glitters, which she loved and he got a tight hug for, her surprised laughter still ringing pleasantly in his ears.

Which is why his attention was drawn to her necklace: it was so… plain compared to what she seemed to prefer. A simple thin leather strap and as a pendant a sort of… tooth? It was a dark kind of brown with just a couple of discreet silverite embellishments in the top and bottom.

Very odd indeed. It bothers him also because he feels like he’s seen it before.

And then when they’re celebrating Corypheus’ defeat he remembers.

The lovebirds are trying to drink each other under the table (although she staunchly refuses to touch that Maraas-lok bottle Bull keeps downing like a champ) and honestly? Glitters is putting their company to shame: in their table alone Sera is out like an over-and-done-with blighted fool, Blackwall is getting there fast if the way he keeps trying to get that giant bird statue to join him in drinking is any indication, and the Chargers are either already passed out or look dangerously woozy.

As she sits on the arm of Tiny’s chair, leaning on the Qunari, he sees both of them have the same necklace, and remembers he’d actually seen Tiny’s before since… well, he runs around half-naked all the time, kinda hard to miss.

Huh. So commitment is a thing even for ex-Qunari spies. Not that anyone can’t tell otherwise that they’re sweet on each other, going by the way those two gravitate to one another whenever in the same room. It’s too cute really. It might make his teeth hurt, but Varric’s genuinely happy for them.

And besides, a (sort of) newly-created Tal-Vashoth and the tiny Human mage who saved the world? That story just writes itself, he thinks as he looks at his pen with a small smile on his face.

**\--Dorian--**

She was crying. They’d know each other for years and he now could claim the title of the first person who made the Inquisitor cry since her nomination as leader of the Inquisition. If his own heart didn’t feel like it was also breaking at that moment he might have laughed.

She is his best friend and he just made her cry.

“Come now, my little fox. Don’t do that.” He gathered her in his arms and proceed to runs his hands up and down her back as she continued quietly crying and shaking, her head barely reaching mid-way through his chest. Such a tiny thing took down a monster who nearly ended the world, who would have thought? “You know if I could I’d never leave you behind, but this… This I must do alone.”

“…they’ll kill you.” She finally whispered, terror in her voice. She pulled slightly away to look into his eyes, her own red, watery and terrified “Dorian, they’ll kill you, please don’t do this… Maybe not soon, but eventually they’ll find a way to get to you and when that happens…” her voice hitched “I won’t be able to protect you, you might be all alone and no one will ever know, please, please don’t go…”

His heart clenched painfully in his chest. He’d never had anyone outright tell him they wanted to protect him. He knew her words were sincere and coming from a place of love too, which made it all the more difficult to endure this without crying himself.

He also knew she wasn’t wrong, but it’s exactly because of that that he had to go back to Tevinter and take up his father’s mantle: He loved his homeland in spite of the many faults of the people within it. There was good there as well, and he was determined to change things, to be the driver of a new Tevinter, free of corruption, terror, slavery and mass murder for the sake of entertainment.

“I won’t be alone, you know? I have friends there who are of the same mind, we… We have power, enough to shake the foundations of tradition. We can do this, and how can I not go when you have done so much yourself? You saved Thedas, now I want to save my homeland as well if I can.”

She bit her lower lip and lowered her eyes.

“Then let me go with you, I—”

“No. I know you mean well, and I’d want nothing more than you by my side, but I’d likely be permanently worried half to death if someone was trying to kill you as well. I prefer to draw all the attention to myself, as you should know” he winked at her and she let out a small, shaky laugh. “Besides, that great big oaf of yours would kill me if I took his favourite little human away from him, I wager.” Her cheeks flushed slightly but she didn’t protest.

“You’ll write… all the time, promise.”

“Certainly not, I have far more technological finesse than that. In fact, that’s why I have a present for you. It’s a sending crystal. Amazing what friendship with the Inquisition gives you access to.” He put the small amulet in her hands after she rubbed her eyes dry. “If I get in over my head or you’re overwhelmed with sorrow for lack of my velvety voice – magic!”

She smiled up at him.

“You know I’ll use this every other day, right?”

“Good, I expect nothing less. Besides, if rumours are true concerning your interest in joining Bull and the Chargers on their travels, this is much easier than letters, am I right?” he smirked.

She nodded and put the thread of the crystal over her head to sit beside her Kadan necklace, now both her dearest possessions.

“Now, I hear that they prepared a feast full of proper fat foods and dangerously alcoholic beverages, I say we go there and make it a night to remember.” He put his arm up “What say you, Madame Fox?”

She took his arm and grinned “I say those great tall ceilings haven’t seen enough scandals in this lifetime.”

And off they went to cause chaos and mayhem, two best friends in their own little world.

**\--The Iron Bull--**

_Not like this._

Bull was prepared for many things during his training as ben-hassrath. Death was inevitable, as was betrayal. Torture, loss of limbs, psychological and physical pain, this was part of training. Training, training would help him through this.

_Breath in, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, breath out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Repeat. Focus. Analyse. What can you do right now with the tools you have?_

\---

She’d been a mission, just another in the myriad of secrecy surrounding the Demands of the Qun. When they first met face to face in the Storm Coast to negotiate their services for the Inquisition, he immediately noticed how lovely she looked, with enticing curves for days, red strands flying around her and a pleasant small smile on her blushed lips. He also most definitely noticed how she surreptitiously admired his own body.

‘Hmm… let’s test a theory.’ He took her small hand in his, his thumb brushing over the top of her hand, with her flush increasing as he kept talking, but her hand stayed in his.

He could use this.

\---

Not much later he'd realise that she was not so easy to manipulate. She had her own methods, but it was no easy task to run circles around her. If he was not careful he might give out a hint too many of things that were in motion.

She was a good leader. Clearly not born into the role and if he had to guess, if it'd been up to her she would have gladly spent her life in relative anonymity. But circumstances made it that she had no choice. Instead of cowering and crying about it however, she rose to the task, stumbling often due to inexperience, but never shirking responsibility. And always eager to listen to advice from those with more experience, which was the mark of a helluva good leader as far as he was concerned. If Bull himself wasn't Qunari and she weren't a mark, in another life he would have followed her.

But daydreaming about these things was useless, he was a ben-hassrath on a mission and that was all that mattered.

Stay true to the Qun.

\---

Tama once told him that all things were replaceable – and that included people. If something is replaceable, you don’t get attached and do stupid shit to keep it or get it back.

Bull was replaceable.

But his Chargers weren’t.

The painful moment he realised this made him Tal-Vashoth. Like an ass, he’d gotten attached to this band of misfits who belonged nowhere else but by each other’s side and his own.

He sacrificed not just a dreadnought filled with his people, but also an entire life and belief system in that same moment. He was tethered to nothing but the tiny hand holding his own, timid but steadfast. He looked back, lost, at her determined eyes as they flashed dangerously at Gatt.

“His name is Iron Bull!” she snarled.

He would go insane eventually, this he did not doubt.

But right then, he was just relieved.

\---

Later that evening as the Chargers were busy celebrating at the Herald’s Rest, he went up to the gatehouse for some alone time. His mind was… scattered, hazy and quite frankly shit to deal with right now.

But someone was already there.

“Bull?” Ellaria asked surprised. She was sitting on the floor, cosied up in more layers of wool than he could count, doing some kind of maintenance to her staff. She’d probably come up here to be alone for a while, he guessed. More often than not she had recruits or advisors on her heel, this was probably a safe place for her to relax some.

“Hey boss, I, uh… yeah, nevermind, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He started turning to leave.

“Wait! I’m… I don’t mind company right now if you don’t?”

He stopped in his tracks. To be honest he really wanted to be alone right now, but something held him back from stating that. He sat silently by her side.

From the corner of his eye he saw her open her mouth and then close it. Turning back to her staff she continued working on it. The more he watched, the more relaxed he felt. Her repeated mechanical motions soothed his chaotic mind into a somewhat manageable state.

They probably stayed like this an hour or so, both silently in their own world, together.

“Bull? Are you cold?” she asked suddenly in a surprised tone.

He looked at her puzzled.

“… You’re shaking.”

Qunari rarely feel cold what was she… oh wait. He really _was_ shaking… what the hell?

“There’s some blankets on my bag, do you want…”

“Nah, I’m alright boss.” He replied, slightly annoyed at himself. He really wasn’t feeling cold, but his damn hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Fucking crap, this day was already crap and now his own body wouldn’t obey him, maybe he was already turning into a crazed Tal—

His hands stopped. Not of their own volition but because they were being held. By her.

She wouldn’t look at him in the eye, her cheeks flushing that lovely shade of pink already, but she held on. Just like she did earlier in the day.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything that happened to you today. I can’t even imagine what you must be going through right now, and I know that I probably can’t do a thing to make it better, but I’m here. As long as you want me around, I’m here, come hell or high water. And whatever I can do to help, I'll do it.” She whispered.

His throat was closing up. He had nothing to say to that, good or bad. No one had never told him anything like that. The Chargers were the closest, but they only implied it, never actually said it because it didn’t need saying. But here she was, crushing that unspoken rule into fine dust. Fragile human mage with the weight of the world on her small shoulders holding onto him like he’ll break if she doesn’t, saying things he never expected or even hoped to hear.

He didn’t realise when his shoulders started to shake as well, but he certainly felt them stop when she gave him an awkward hug around his head and shoulders. The angle was off, as she wasn’t much taller than him, even with her standing and him sitting. The horns were also kinda in the way. She didn’t seem to care and kept him close to her bosom.

He didn’t know what the hell his body was doing anymore. He knows he buried his head further into her chest and put his arms around her. He had no control, and with the strength he was using, his arms would probably leave bruises on her for days to come. She didn’t seem to mind and started to gently stroke the top of his head, touch as light as a feather.

If he’d been in his right mind then, he’d have know this was the first day when she’d finally become dangerous to him.

\---

Time went on, demon crap went on, crazy spirit shit kept trying to kill them, possess them or just generally get in their way.

But in between those moments he found himself drawn to her company more and more often. He told himself it was a good strategy, that way he knew what to count on, should she lose her head to some crazy mage shit.

Even if he didn’t go look for her, she either sought him or Dorian out. She was fond of that Vint mage way too much for his comfort, but he couldn’t deny that so far he’d been nothing but helpful. She seemed truly happy around him and they both could often be seen in the library hiding behind giant tomes on obscure magics, giggling like children. She also really liked listening to Varric’s stories and was often in the great hall listening in rapture as he magnanimously graced them with his tales of the Champion of Kirkwall. Rumour had it that he and this Marian Hawke were actually seeing each other. And all of this was when he wasn’t too busy writing his pornographic books. “Hard in Hightown: Siege Harder”? Really?

Honestly if he bothered to care, he was well aware of how weird all the people in the Inquisition were, with Varric probably being one of the least weird ones.

However, more than anyone else, he was bothered by that former templar, Cullen. He saw the way he looked at Ellaria even if the commander himself didn’t realise it. He couldn’t say _why_ it bothered him, but it did. And not understanding pissed him off.

Anyway, these days she was trying to practice short range combat. She was good at an archer’s distance, but any nearer and she still had some strategic hiccups that needed some tweaking. She’d been asking around for help of both warriors and rogues, and there was no way he was passing up the opportunity to see her sweaty and determined in her very *fitted* practice gear.

And then one day, in the middle of their battle practice sessions she trips on some random vine, he catches her and she’s holding onto him and looking into his eyes like she’s hoping for something to happen.

He was pretty sure he’d read something like this in one of those smutty novels by that weird dwarf.

When he finally leaned down for her to reach him his mind went blank.

Her arms tried to reach around him (unlikely to happen) as he almost got down to his knees. Her lips moved against his with abandon, shyness completely gone.

Oddly, this felt like a long time coming.

Ever since that day where they’d come back from their first dragon hunt and her eyes held a special shine as they looked at him over her mug, he’d also been waiting for something. Heck, probably hoping.

And here she was. All soft curves tightly pressed against his own firm muscular frame, as though waiting to be moulded by his hands, at his mercy. He could break her neck right now with one twist of his hands, and she’d never even have the time to realise it before her eyes clouded over.

But she wasn’t the only one at his mercy, not anymore. As he sat them both down in the grass, she beckoned and he came to her. She whispered and he answered. She touched and he yielded.

He wasn’t sure anymore of what the hell he was doing.

\---

She was sleeping by his side, exhausted and completely naked, after hours of testing each other’s limits. He absent-mindedly played with the Kadan necklace she had a few hours before presented him with.

This was… dangerous. Even worse, it was unexpected.

Bull prided himself in his ability to read people. Some he had more trouble with, like the hold’s spymaster, but otherwise this was one of his better talents.

He could read her most of the time, but clearly not when it mattered.

Just days before, they’d had a huge fight after she’d tried to cover him as a stray spell from a blood mage came at him. Once they’d gotten back to Skyhold, they found somewhere private and a shouting match had ensued.

He was clearly right in telling her that he was supposed to protect her, not the other way around. She was the damn Inquisitor who was going to save them from whatever clusterfuck Corypheus had planned and she should damn well try to stay alive at least until then. She’d shouted back that she didn’t even think when she jumped, but even if she had she’d still done so because she could actually survive that attack, unlike him. Besides, he mattered and he “ _wasn’t replaceable, dammit_!”.

This went on for hours, without resolution until both their voices were finally gone and they went their own separate ways, still pissed. For days they refused to see or speak to each other. The Chargers were starting to grow weary of his constant bad mood and even Bull admitted it may be time to try to talk to her again to see if… he didn’t know. If somehow this crap could be resolved, he guessed?

He went up to her rooms, hoping she wouldn’t slam the door on his horns.

She opened the door, looked surprised as hell, and then took a hold of his hand, dragging him inside.

She stuttered through her apology for being so harsh the other day, but she maintained her stance. He sighed and was about to apologise as well (without giving in on his own stance though) when out of seemingly nowhere she pulled a dragon’s tooth fashioned into a pendant.

She stumbled, flustered over her passionate speech over what drove her to do this, and while he had no clue what he said right before he stopped her by hoisting her into his arms, drowning her explanations in a kiss and almost running to her bed, he did realise something:

He’d called her Kadan.

And he’d meant it.

Back to the now, he found very little in himself that cared to worry about it though, as he ran his fingers through the red strands spilled over her bare lower back.

\---

He was officially a giant ass.

She was dying. And instead of dragging her away from this fucking Orlesian and Fereldan cock suckers’ pissing contest to get her some proper healing on that fucking arm, he was coming with her to what was probably the worst clusterfucked place possible in the whole damn world right now.

Fuck those crazy elves and the crap Viddasala kept spewing about, she was fucking DYING right now!

It wasn’t too late, they could still go back and dredge up whatever magic crap Dorian and Vivienne had been muttering about to get her healthy again and-- where is she?

He looked around but she was nowhere to be seen. Only he, Dorian, Cole and the cooling corpse of the Saarebas were in that field… plus the eluvian thing…

“No…No, no, no, NO!!!” he tried to go through it, but it had been closed from the other side.

“She must have passed when we weren’t looking!” Dorian offers in a panicked voice.

“Then get it fucking open, you shit Vint! I’m not letting her go alone in there!” he snarls.

_Training, remember your fucking training!_

“I can’t you oaf! I can’t manipulate the sort of magic in these mirrors anymore than you!”

_Breath!_

“They’re meeting face to face…”

Both the former qunari and the mage turned to Cole in surprise.

“He regrets, but won’t stop. We’re too real to him for him to ignore anymore. He wants to be stopped but she’s the only one able do it, and she can’t right now. She’s too weak, dying, almost gone…” he suddenly gasps “I… they’re both gone, I can’t see anything!”

Bull lets out a cry so loud and terrifying, that he didn’t even know he could drag it out from his lungs until then. It sounds more animal than person. He’s banging repeatedly the mirror, beyond reason, his hands starting to bleed.

**_“I love you, Bull.”_ **

Cole and Dorian both try to drag him away from the eluvian before he really breaks it, but his grief is strong and unyielding, and soon they have to back down or they’ll too get caught in the havoc.

_You’re not replaceable!_

The eluvian starts to glow slightly, but Bull barely notices, blinded. This is how he’ll go savage and insane.

_Come back to me!_

The mirror suddenly flashes as Ellaria falls through it, right into Bull’s arms. Her body heavy and unmoving.

His heart stops.

He thinks he can vaguely hear Dorian shouting something, but it’s muffled, as though he’s underwater and everything is in slow motion.

He sees, motionless, as Dorian drags her into a lying position on the floor, and Bull tries to understand why there is so much red on his arms and lap. What is this?

“She’s still breathing! Quickly, we need to get her back into the Winter palace! NOW!!”

His heart jumps back into action. The red is blood from her dark rotten arm, which is precariously dangling from just above her elbow, finally not killing her, but there’s so much blood, too much outside her tiny frame.

_His Kadan can't survive this._

_No._

He picks her up, as he’s done so many times before, but never with this sense of urgency. They start running back through the other eluvians.

He’ll drag her back from the deepest darkspawn lair in the damn Deep Roads if he has to, but he’ll be damned if he lets her go without a fight!

_Hold on, Kadan!_

**\--Ellaria Trevelyan--**

‘This skull is new.’ She contemplates, looking at the new addition imperiously standing atop their dinner table, as though it was a normal decorative trinket. There was even a frilly tablecloth beneath to complete the look.

She was pretty sure this was likely from his secret mission a couple of weeks ago, when she’d gone to visit Josephine in Val Royeaux. Bull and the Chargers said they’d found a dragon guarding a cave where their target was.

‘A likely story.’ She smirks, amused.

Their house is all weird anyway, so what’s one more dragon skull to add to the collection? Heck, their lives are weird, might as well go with the dragon’s breath.

A few years after being on the road, doing good (spy) work for Leliana (she knows she should call her Divine Victoria, but in private Leliana prefers her original name) and still trying to find Solas, Bull confessed something one night as they’re laying beside each other in their tent, after a long day's work:

“I’ve been thinking… how about getting a place of our own, together?”

She’d been almost asleep, but this got her wide-eyed and fully awake.

“Like a… house?”

“Mhmm.”

“Seriously?”

“Kadan, you know I love us traveling together but… sometimes I wish we could on occasion go back somewhere where we didn’t have to worry about you catching a cold from the rain pouring on our asses as we sleep, or just a place with a solid bed without worrying about maids walking in on us testing the light fixtures…” she giggled here “And I think you too would like that… am I wrong?”

“It would be nice.” she admited, her chin finally resting on his chest as he stroked her hair.

“Besides, we don’t have to ‘settle down’ as they call it, it would just be… a place to call home and come back to, is all.”

She looked up at him and smiled.

“Alright, let’s get a house together.”

Truth be told, they were there probably only some 4 months tops out of a whole year there, if you added up the days. She was still busy with a smaller, but more secretive and very active Inquisition, and he and his Chargers were either helping them, Divine Victoria or just taking the occasional slaver-killing job.

They’d chosen a location in the border of Ferelden and Orlais, so they could easily travel back and forth between both nations if the need arose. They also chose a place near a small town that was home to a famous Orlesian bakery because… well, they both had a sweet tooth. Their friends visited often, the Chargers more than most. On occasion they had an unexpected runaway Jenny over as well, but they took it all in stride.

It was a weird, wonderful life they’d build together. She wouldn’t change it for anything in the whole of Thedas.

“Kadan!” she heard Bull bellow from their doorway, a smile in his voice “You won’t believe what the drake dragged in!”

“Move over and let me in, you overgrown oaf! Letting a friend and frequent guest just standing at the door, vishante kaffas, how my dearest fox puts up with your grotesque manners I’ll never know!” Magister Dorian Pavus’ miffed tone was heard even from a distance.

Her eyes light up. She runs to the entrance to meet them both.

There was still so much uncertainty: Solas was still hiding, Mythal and Morrigan were nowhere to be found, the Qunari in Par Vollen were starting to act up, the mages were facing an unprecedented but uneasy peace, and the Lucerni still had a long fight ahead to bring back Tevinter from certain fall.

But it was alright. This, right here, with the arms of her best friend around her and the warm gaze of her beloved on her was enough.

She’s loved and warm. She’s home.

**_The End._ **

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I hope you enjoyed reading my little take on the romance between these two beloved characters. :) I haven't written in years, and since coming into this fandom early this year it's been an amazing ride to come back to a place of acceptance and pure love for a good video game. It doesn't help that I've made good friends who certainly won't try to stop me from dishing out my preferences in written form lol.  
> Small note on the actual story, Vivienne and Ellaria's love stories are in some ways parallel to each other, hence why when Cole is speaking to Cassandra it's hard to tell whom he speaks of - in fact he speaks of both, but Vivienne in the past and Ellaria in the present. Anyway, I hope you had a good time and thank you for stopping by!


End file.
